The Hobbit 1 12
by xxxAriha
Summary: Remember Lion King 1 1/2. Yeah, nough said. Two elves, a queen and her lady and their travel with the Oakenshield Company. With forbidden love, prophetic visions in the form of nightmares and Middle Earth, what's not to love.
1. Chapter 1

_ "Wizard, I ask of you this."_

_Gandalf had not been hiding but he still smiled that the Elven queen had so easily sensed his presence. She turned sharp blue, almost white, eyes to his general direction. Her companion stood silently by, fingers curled around her bow._

_"Do you think me a fool? That I do not sense you?"_

_"Nothing of the sort."_

_Gandalf revealed himself, his hands in a gesture meant to assure the two She-Elves he meant them no harm or ill will._

_"Queen Amarth, I am sure you have heard of the king under the mountain."_

_"But of course," she replied. "Atiana and I both. But what does that have to do with us?"_

_"I have a company," Gandalf explained, lowering his hands. "I should like the two of you to take part."_

_Amarth looked to Atiana, her so far silent companion, a small grin on her face._

_"You know too well that both Thranduil and my son would find no amusement in our actions," she said, mischief clear in her voice._

_Atiana returned her grin._

_"Then we must take great care not to get caught."_

* * *

_It wasn't possible. Thorin had agreed to the wizard's plan. Had really considered it too. To reclaim his birthright, his home, he'd do anything. Anything except work with that bastard's wife. A title she was obviously proud of because she'd introduced herself with her title, her voice a whispered hush, given that they were outside a very unsavory tavern. Meanwhile, her companion had literally dropped from the ceiling, bow in hand as if she'd been scouting. Amarth, the queen, had fixed her companion's hood over hair so deeply brown it was almost black. As for Amarth, her hair was a full black, hidden beneath the hood of her own hooded cloak with only a few wisps escaping. The wizard was watching the exchange between him and the two Elven wenches._

_"No," Thorin said flat out._

_"Beggars cannot afford to be choosers, your Highness," Amarth had said before Gandalf could get a word in. _

_Her blue, almost white, eyes fell upon him, freezing his soul with the intensity. Her tone may have been playful and light but she was dangerous. _

_"You intend to mock me?" Thorin demanded. _

_Her lips quirked and she cast a glance at her companion. With a smile, she motioned at her._

_"This is Atiana," she said. "A good friend of mine. Almost family."_

_Brown eyes flashed to Amarth, speckled with gold and green. Thorin drew in a deep breath of surprise as those eyes went to him, the brown in them literally lightening to an almost mahogany color. Briefly, she nodded, a low bow her only response before she straightened._

_"I, unlike my husband, who can be rather thick skulled, have no quarrel with dwarves. In fact, it was dwarves that once saved my life," Amarth explained. _

_She recaptured his eyes._

_"I was unable to help that family. Orcs killed them. A very… pale orc, to be precise."_

_She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. VERY carefully. Thorin looked at Gandalf._

_"Very well," he finally relented._

* * *

The two elves watched the dwarves stuff their faces, sitting in the shadows.

"Such...excellent table manners," Atiana remarked, making a face at the fish lying on her plate, placed by one of the dwarves.

Her response was typical of any elf who'd never wandered past the confines of home. Amarth grinned at her companion, her face sly.

"They're a cheerful lot, are they not?"

Atiana opened her mouth to retort but found the queen distracted by the hobbit who scrambled about, trying to keep his things from being broken. She bit back a loud laugh, shocked when Amarth let out a joyful chirp beside her.

"Poor hobbit!" she laughed, true sympathy in her voice despite her laughter.

Looking at the mess, Atiana shook her head.

"Indeed."

"It seems the man of the hour has yet to arrive though. Pity, he'll miss out on the food," Amarth said.

"Are you serious about helping these dwarves?"

Atiana could not help ask as a chorus of burps echoed from the hall. Amarth seemed amused and distracted by the sound.

"Duck!" she ordered, yanking her friend down to the floor as dishes began flying.

"What?" Atiana cried.

Amarth was on her feet, throwing her own dish and laughing as a dwarf was suddenly there to catch it. Atiana looked up at her queen as if the woman was crazy.

"Atiana! Come!" Amarth urged, yanking at Atiana's arm.

Atiana was yanked up, a mug flying past her head.

"Toss it to him!" Amarth instructed, pointing at a dirty blonde dwarf and indicating Atiana's plate.

Timidly, Atiana did so, pleasure in her as the dwarf grinned and then he turned away, throwing at another dwarf out of sight. Amarth was grinning at her.

"Dwarves are much, much more fun then elves," her queen said. "No matter what they are doing."

The fun drained away though, with the sound of a hard knock on the hobbit's door. Amarth's smile vanished as she turned toward the sound, her eyes flashing.

"He's here," was all she said.


	2. Chapter 2

The night prior had wrapped up with surprising quickness. Thorin's arrival had led to discussion and the revelation of Thrain's key. Through the planning, Amarth had been deathly quiet, her eyes taking in everything as she huddled in the shadows, to keep those dwarves not so accepting of elves at ease. She only smiled, grimly at that, when the hobbit's purpose had been revealed. Then Atiana and Amarth had retired, leaving the hobbit to his contract, his decision. Which had made Atiana uneasy, given that he'd fainted right away. It was only the dwarves' singing that had lulled her to rest.

"He's not coming," Atiana decided aloud to her queen.

Amarth grinned.

"Do you wish for me to place your bet with the dwarves?" she asked.

The queen had already placed hers. Before Atiana could say no, her queen hollered up the ranks.

"My friend bets that our burglar will not come!" was met with boos and laughs alike from both betting parties.

"I understand your desire to be accepted within this company, Amarth," Atiana said. "But do not forget who you are."

Amarth's cold eyes focused on her.

"I am a king's wife, yes, but I was a warrior long before that. I won't deny the prestige I possess now but I won't abandon who I was long before I had a title."

There were implications in her tone that Atiana did not like but she bit her tongue, glaring at her queen, the anger growing in her chest. At least until it could no longer be contained, her eyes darkening to a deep black. She opened her mouth, readying to snap.

"Wait!" a voice yelled. "Wait!"

Atiana pulled her horse's reins, looking over her shoulder as the hobbit ran into view. Her queen smiled as he ran to Balin, his contract held high.

"I signed it!"

The old dwarf studied it a moment.

"Everything appears to be in order," he said after a moment. "Welcome, Master Baggins to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

"Give him a pony," was all Thorin said, after the brief chatter.

Atiana tried not to smile, the dwarven height always something that amused her as she stroked her full grown mare's neck. Meanwhile the hobbit made his objections which fell on deaf ears as he was lifted onto a pony.

"Pay up," Amarth encouraged, her words inciting an orchestra of the same.

Soon, bags of coin were flying around and Amarth caught on, grinning at Atiana who reluctantly brought forth her own, tossing it blindly. She had the feeling that if she hoped to remain long in the company, she would have to improve on her free throws or else suffer ridicule from the dwarves.

* * *

Camp was a foreign concept. Thranduil had insisted his people never leave the borders. His hunting parties went no further and always came back. No overnight required. Atiana had lived in his kingdom since her birth. Amarth had not had the luxury and thus knew how to set camp. She may have been queen but she didn't care as she made camp for herself and Atiana, who could not say she was embarrassed. She was too sore, having spent longer hours in the saddle then she was accustomed to. But that was fine. Amarth was proving to be just as sore as they settled on their "beds", the hard ground still evident beneath them. Neither moved too harshly at the shriek that pierced the night though, though the hobbit clearly panicked.

"Orcs," Amarth hissed.

She sat up, cracking her back. It was clear she wasn't going to sleep, not with Orcs out there.

"Azog still haunts you doesn't he?" Atiana asked.

"If there is a chance he is out there," Amarth said. "If that cry is his or his men, there can be no peace for me."

Her queen left her there, in the blanket of flames as Thorin's nephews joked with the hobbit. Meanwhile, Thorin too rose, scolding the two. Amarth knew more about the future dwarf king then Atiana but she never went into his story. Now though, Balin did, painting a battle that Atiana was glad she hadn't been part of, but it had her looking at Thorin Oakenshield as she looked at the elf she was pledged to: with reverence and respect. Dwarf or not, throne or not, he was a king. And his men would follow him into the dragon's lair together.

"And the pale orc... what happened to him?" Bilbo asked, clearly as enraptured in the story as Atiana herself.

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came," Thorin answered in a tone that suggested he believed his words wholeheartedly. "That filth died of his wounds long ago."

If only he could share that desperate belief with Amarth. Perhaps then she would not wake in the middle of the night, haunted by the uncertainty of the one thing that gave her nightmares.

* * *

Rain forced her cloak to stick to her back, making her saddle slick as well as her clothes. Her only fear was not illness but rather chaffing pain that would result from a wet saddle. Amarth kept her head low all the same, exhausted. She had not slept but then, neither had Oakenshield. Towards the wee hours of night, she had seen him watching her pace, wary despite the time he'd had to get to know her. Good. She liked that he was uneasy. It would make the trip more interesting. Truly, this was a test. For if he could not overcome the past, with at least her, what right did he have to rule as king. Unless he had a queen with no such prejudice at his side, much like Thranduil had her. He was not the best ruler but he cared for his people and that was enough. She was rather impressed that he'd won over Atiana almost completely. She had little experience with dwarves. In fact, she had none, only going off what she'd been told by her kin. Still, Atiana was suddenly stealing glances at the young dwarf and Amarth tried not to laugh. True he was handsome but certainly not enough to tempt away from Amarth's son. Therefore, let Atiana look all she wanted. Even if Atiana could be tempted, the dwarf king did not seem one to want a thing to do with elven women. He'd almost had a fit when Gandalf had revealed his little helpers months ago, before this journey had started. Ah! There! Finally the rain was letting up or had, as it was suddenly clear.

"We'll camp here for the night," Thorin announced, launching further into more orders.

Everyone dismounted but Amarth and Atiana remained on their mounts.

"You sense it as well?" Amarth asked.

"I do," Atiana replied.

She was looking around, scanning the grassy land spread before and behind them.

"We should keep moving."

"We signed no contract," Amarth pointed out. "In fact, we are here under Gandalf's request. We are bound to follow him, not the Oakenshield."

In fact, as she spoke, Gandalf was storming away from Thorin, heading towards them in a most disagreeable fashion.

"I've had enough of dwarves for one day," he informed them, though he seemed to speak more to himself than to either of them.

Amarth said nothing, glancing once at Atiana, before she urged her mount to follow Gandalf. Atiana watched the two go but could not bring herself to follow. Amarth glanced back once and then nodded, clearly understanding Atiana's desire to stay. Still, she left, riding away as Atiana slid from her mount.

"Glad to see you stayed," Fili remarked, gracing her with a smile as he took her horse's reins.

She offered one back.

"I am as much a part of this company as the you or they," she said, gesturing at his fellow dwarves.

That one gesture made her glance Thorin's way, only to see that the king was watching them. His eyes did not hold as much wariness as before, making her think she'd passed some sort of test. Something inside her warmed, something she'd only felt in the presence of Amarth's son. The warmth faded as Thorin turned away and everyone began to make camp. Looking back, she discovered Fili had led her mount away, probably realizing that his uncle was watching. Either way, Atiana had made her choice and so she would live with it.

* * *

"You are terrible," the dwarven king remarked, announcing his presence.

Atiana looked up from her attempt at making camp, her own separate from the men, so she'd have a measure of privacy. The king though, had sought her out, a bowl of stew in his hands. Obviously for her.

"Thank you," Atiana said, taking it when he held it out to her.

She sat on her makeshift bed, when really it was only a blanket spread messily on the ground, offering little padding compared to what Amarth had managed the night prior. Thorin urged her aside and she rose from said makeshift bed as the king bent to fix it.

"If you are going to travel with us, you must learn to do this yourself. Do not rely on your companion to do it for you."

He looked up at her as he scolded her.

"She is your queen. Should you not do this for her?"

"You'll find Amarth to be very... self reliant," Atiana replied, choosing her words carefully. "She grew up outside any elven borders, amongst both Man and Dwarf."

"Truly?" Thorin said.

He seemed impressed. Atiana wanted to impress him further but with something about herself, rather than Amarth. But what could she say to him?

"Truly," Atiana finally said.

She sat on her fixed bed as the king took a seat on a rock, clearly settling in to some measure to speak with her.

"When Amarth was brought to Thranduil, he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her personally and so she remained in the kingdom and trained. I like to think that it was I who tamed her but I suppose that's a lie. She's as wild as ever."

Atiana's sigh was a fond one as she remembered her first meeting with Amarth. The girl had attacked her, stupidly, but had shown promise with just a dagger. At the promise of more knowledge, more power and strength, Amarth had begun to obey, to train and hold in her temper. She'd been savage compared to the other elves but had changed enough that she'd attracted the king's eye when he'd decided to take a queen.

"Why did Gandalf choose you?" Thorin asked. "I mean no offense but Amarth is clearly made for this kind of thing. But what of you?"

Atiana raised her eyes to him.

"I-" she began.

A sense of dread filled her and she rose suddenly, dropping her bowl of stew as she listened, opening her senses.

"Trolls," she whispered.

* * *

"I've always known wizards had short tempers," Amarth mused, talking mostly to fill the silence.

She knew it bothered Gandalf but the wizard shushed her rather than ignore her and then he dismounted.

"Where are you going?" she demanded, earning her another shush.

"Stay with my horse," he ordered, thrusting the reins into her hand.

Amarth did not speak again, glaring at the old wizard who almost laughed at her. She looked so much like a pouting child.

"Open your senses," he ordered, which she did. "Do you smell that?"

Dawn was near, she smelled that. She also smelled-

"Trolls."

Their foul stench was hard to miss even if she was not so closely connected to the world as Atiana.

"And?"

Amarth wrinkled her nose, unable to answer. She may have been elf but her connection to the world around her was not as good as others of her kind, lest the wizard forget who or what had raised her. He seemed to remember just fine as he palmed his staff.

"Remain here," he urged. "With dawn, all will be well."

Then he left her in the remaining night's embrace, holding his horse's reins as she sat on her own, feeling not like a warrior but rather like a child.


	3. Chapter 3

"You told him of me," Amarth said grimly.

She was happy enough to be reunited with Atiana, staring into the cavernous mouth of the Troll cave. The company had descended into that darkness minutes ago but Amarth had stopped Atiana from following.

"Some," Atiana admitted, not at all repentant.

Amarth shook her head, smiling.

"Rather than embellish about my few accomplishments, tell him what you have done," she suggested. "Tell him of your many fights, your close chance at becoming Captain of the Guards, tell him of how you saved my life by giving me one anew. But do not tell him what you perceived as the things you think I accomplished on my own."

Atiana met her eyes, smiling warmly at the emotions she saw in the woman's eyes.

"Tell him that you are my why I am queen," Amarth urged. "Because that is the truth."

"You are queen because you are the only one able to take Thranduil's cruelty without flinching. And the only one able to throw it back at him on the sly."

Amarth opened her mouth to argue but was interrupted by the emerging dwarves. Atiana, meanwhile, sensed something, hand automatically going for her weapon.

"Something's coming!" Thorin announced.

Atiana took off towards what she sensed before the dwarves could act, her body moving effortlessly as well as silently through the brush. She expected orcs but what appeared was far from it. It was an old man, clearly a wizard, in brown who had bird dung clinging to strands of hair. Rabbits carried him along as he slid into view, yelling not in fear but almost in madness.

"Radagast!" Gandalf greeted.

Atiana instantly backed off, fading into the brush a bit. If one looked for her, they would see her. Otherwise, she was well hidden. It seemed, though, only Thorin thought to look and he found her with ease, locking onto her with an impressed gaze that sent warmth through her. If he thought her reaction time was something to behold, she could not wait for him to see her fight. Amarth eased in beside her, also silent, face twisted in disgust.

"The Greenwood is sick, Gandalf!" Radagast insisted. "A darkness has fallen over it."

To his credit, Gandalf took little notice in the other wizard's ramblings, clearly lost in his own thoughts as he smoked his pipe.

"Nothing grows anymore," Radagast continued. "At least, nothing good. The air is foul with decay. But worse are the webs."

Beside her, Atiana could feel Amarth shiver, a single one that passed through her body in one fell swoop before it was gone. Webs could only mean one thing.

"Webs? What do you mean?" Gandalf asked.

As if it wasn't obvious.

"Spiders, Gandalf," Radagast replied. "Giant ones. Some kind of spawn of Ungoliant, or I am not a Wizard."

Amarth tensed further, not liking the word. In fact, she was probably praying that Radagast was wrong.

"I followed their trail," Radagast went on grimly. "They came from Dol Guldur."

That got Gandalf's attention and sent Amarth away with surprising quickness. Atiana followed automatically but it seemed they could not escape the words.

"...A Necromancer has come."

It was with those words that Amarth dropped, her scream echoing through the forest, startling even Atiana, who had a feeling it was coming. For the company, for the wizards, it was business as usual though. Atiana did not mind as she collapsed beside Amarth.

"Your dreams," she began.

"Giant spiders, Dol Guldur... a Necromancer," Amarth repeated, her entire body shivering. "It is my worst fears come to light."

She looked to Atiana, as if to say more but was cut off by the baying of an animal.

"Warg scouts," Atiana realized, rising.

She drew her bow, knowing now was not the time for weakness as the baying continued and the company grew alert.

"An Orc pack is not far behind," Amarth said.

She rose, clearly able to put her emotions on hold, though she clearly did not want to. With no more words, she led Atiana back to their company, only to learn that their horses were gone. Every possible thing that could go wrong was, and the first pin prickles of fear and panic began to set in Atiana's chest.

"I'll draw them off," Radagast announced.

"These are Gundabad Wargs," Gandalf snapped. "They'll outrun you."

"Theses are Rhosgobel rabbits," Radagast argued back. "I'd like to see them try."

His confidence amused Atiana, easing her a bit and she looked to Amarth who was somewhat fawning over an injured Warg, its dying whimpers almost unheard.

"Amarth?" she asked.

Her eyes widened as she realized Amarth was not fawning, but healing.

"What are you doing?"

The company as one, with the exception of Gandalf and Bilbo, looked over as the Warg that had once been dying rose, shaking itself. Amarth wasted no time, swinging onto its back and drawing her bow.

"I shall thin the ranks," she replied.

She waited for no answer, urging the beast that was now loyal to her to some degree away, leaving Atiana behind with no way to follow.

"Amarth!" she cried.

A hand came to rest on her shoulder and she discovered Fili.

"No time," he said. "We have to go."

Radagast was gone, probably to lure off the Wargs. He was right. They were out of time. Atiana steeled herself, bow in hand, drawing one arrow to get her started.

"Let's go."

* * *

Wargs were fast, loyal to those who did right by them but showed a firm hand. Amarth had healed the Warg with only hope, urging the beast forward. Riding one was not much different then riding a horse, though a horse was more about using the reins. With a Warg, you used only your body. She was well versed in the way of the body and she kept just ahead of the Orc pack. Despite her teasing, despite the hatred they felt for the Elves, the Orcs were abandoning her and she knew they'd somehow found the company. Her one thought was of Atiana as she turned the Warg around. The Orcs were fast creatures, their mounts much faster than her own, a conclusion she made merely cause they had the advantage of distance. She was much lighter than the Orcs so she weighed down her mount less. He was actually much faster. The Orcs were just further ahead, curse them.

* * *

Atiana felt fear, as she sensed the Orc was closing in. They only had one archer and no Wizard.

"Hold you ground!" Thorin instructed.

Atiana followed his example, pointing her bow at an Orc. He sneered in response, clearly not afraid.

"This way, you fools!"

Gandalf's voice startled her and she fired, hitting the Orc clear between his eyes before a hand seized her wrist. She expected Fili, one of two dwarves that had interacted with her. Instead it was Kili, who pulled her along, leading her to where the others were leaping into a crumbled tower like structure. She had little time to ponder, only thinking that by going in there, they greatly risked losing their advantage of wide open space in which to battle. But Thorin urged her into the hole as Kili fired more arrows. Sliding into dwarf arms was the last thing Atiana wanted but its what happened, Kili and Thorin following her soon after. She scrambled to her feet, clutching at Gandalf. He was focused on the gaping hole as well as the impending Orcs. All of them were. She realized in her panic, she'd missed something but wasn't sure what, listening as she did to the sounds of the Orcs as they cried out in pain. Slowly, she detached herself from the wizard, only to have an Orc roll into the hole, while her poor nerves were still settling. The dwarfs moved aside as the monster stopped, unmoving, dead. Atiana stared down at it, at the arrow in its chest, even as Thorin ripped it out, studying it.

"Elves," he concluded, a brief glance at her.

Atiana's eyes were on the arrow and she almost cried with relief until Thorin threw the arrow aside, glaring at Gandalf.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it or no?" Dwalin asked, his voice sounding far away.

Pathway? Atiana wondered.

She detached from the gathered company to find out what this path was. Whatever it was, it seemed they were following it.

* * *

An arrow sliced through the air, headed for the Warg beside her. In one smooth motion, Amarth sliced through it, slapping the beast and urging it to run. She had no use for it, no need really. But she had saved it, healed it with her own hands. The least she could do was spare it another brush with death. As her beast escaped, she turned to face the archer, his arrow pointed at her face until he realized she was an elf. She realized the same about him.

"You," the archer began.

Amarth extended one hand, making it clear he was only to touch her there.

"I am Queen Amarth," she declared. "Now assist me unto your mount and take me to your king."

Her order was met with only obedience, as she expected and she was soon behind the archer as his party rejoined him. Then they began to take her where she wanted to be.

* * *

"The Valley of Imladris," Atiana whispered, beholding the Elven city.

She nearly wept at the beauty, the chance to know that there would be no setting up camp, no sleeping on hard ground. And knowing what had killed the Orcs. But her relief was washed away by that which she did not know. Amarth's fate. Had the queen escaped the pack or had she been killed? Or worse. Captured? Dragged off to some forsaken Orc master to have every nightmare she'd ever had realized until they killed her. No! She would not and could not think like that. Instead, she stared at the kingdom, faintly aware of Thorin and Gandalf arguing behind her once again. She did not care to listen until she realized they were going and she could not have been happier, despite the long trek. It was all worth it as they crossed that crafted bridge, the beauty of it all making her yearn for home, not for the first time.

* * *

_"Lady Amarth," Lord Elrond greeted._

_Amarth slid from the archer's horse before it had stopped, landing on her feet before the elf._

_"Lord Elrond," she greeted with a bow._

_These were his lands after all. Perhaps better to start off courteously._

_"It is a pleasure," the lord said. "But also, most curious."_

_Amarth's lips turned up._

_"Most curious," she agreed._

_"Your king has been looking for you," he pointed out._

_Amarth almost burst into laughter._

_"And no doubt you will return me to him," she said, taking his smile as a good sign. _

_"Perhaps," Lord Elrond mused. "Though I would not hold my breath."_

_Amarth let the laughter loose, the joy she had passing to him. He was always a welcome face. Unlike his archer, when he swung himself onto his mighty horse, he offered his hand and she accepted, allowing him to pull her up. As she settled behind him, she could see his smile fade but could not inquire upon it as his horse surged forward, sending her teeth together in a snap, old friends reunited violently._

* * *

Now, however, her comment about old friends did not seem in bad humor. Peering over Lord Elrond's shoulder, she could see the company, gathered and looking out of place amongst the kingdom's delicate design. The dwarves were too brutish in appearance as they readied their weapons at the sound of the horn. Amarth almost laughed. As was her fashion, she leapt off the black stallion as soon as they were close, allowing the Wizard and the Lord to greet one another. She was uninterested in pleasantries, finding Atiana immediately, the only delicate figure amongst the ruggish dwarves. Uninterrupted, she pulled her friend from the gathering, whirling her companion to face her.

"Lord Elrond has given us more leeway then the dwarves," she explained, gesturing to the stairs. "What say you to some shameless pampering?"

"I say yes," Atiana said, clearly relieved by her presence.

As they crept up the stairs, leaving the men to their talking though, Atiana grew somber.

"I also say never pull such a stunt again. For if you perish and I do not, it will be my head that adorns your husband's throne room."

Amarth did not laugh at that, mostly because she could not laugh off the truth.


	4. Chapter 4

Atiana watched in amusement as the dwarves picked at the offered food, grumbling over the lack of meat. She, meanwhile, was glad for it. The meat in the stew had upset her stomach and she was glad for the delicate robes offered, though she'd kept to her tunic. Amarth could do no such thing. As queen, she had to accept the robes, had to be presentable and had to attend the lord rather than lounge with the dwarves as they feasted. Or not, in this case. Amarth passed by, tailing the elf king with reluctant elegance , the illusion of which was shattered when she stuck her tongue out at Atiana before turning away. Atiana laughed, joined by the dwarves or at least those who had seen. She still did not fit in, unable to take as much displeasure in the music and food as they did. This was, after all, the closest to home she may ever get in a long while.

* * *

Amarth tried not to seem bored, sitting across from Elrond. But she never found much interest in the name of swords. Places had names, people had names and animals. Practical things. One did not need to name a sword or a bow. For a sword was a sword. More to the point, a weapon was a weapon. Yet Elrond continued, marveling at both swords as he returned them to their new owners. And Gandalf was too willing to blabber on about their travel on the Great East Road. And Elrond was far too perceptive not to inquire. She could see the tension his question brought to Thorin's shoulders as she lounged, watching them all. Sooner rather than later, Elrond would find out. But perhaps she could spare him, however briefly. So she cleared her throat with snobbish impatience, drawing Elrond's attention.  
"Forgive me, Lady Amarth. I'm sure this talk bores you," he said.  
"More than you know," Amarth replied. "A sword is a sword. Not a pet or a person. Why does it deserve a name?"  
Elrond seemed exasperated by her question but she launched into a new one.  
"And why must his men and my lady eat on the floor over there. Is it because of their lack of title?"  
"Be at ease, my lady," Elrond urged.  
He was annoyed now as well. Perfect.  
"If so, my lady is to succeed me by way of marriage as queen," Amarth went on.  
Her declaration was met with silence, the shock a curious expression on Thorin's face. Amarth kept a straight face though.  
"If you insist, you lady may dine with us," Elrond said.  
"Or perhaps, I may dine with her?" Amarth bargained.  
Elrond offered a smile.  
"I can see now that the rumors are true. You are clever and quick of wit. I can see why Thranduil took you as his queen."  
"Rumors?" Thorin repeated. "Are you implying you have never before met."  
So Gandalf hadn't told him.  
"We met once, many years ago and not face to face, so to speak," Amarth replied.  
Elrond smiled grimly.  
"Indeed. A door stood between us. A locked one, if I recall correctly."  
"My own personal cage," Amarth went on, musing happily.  
She looked to Thorin.  
"You remember what Atiana has told you about me? My origins, or what she knows of my time before the elves? When they brought me to Thranduil's court, I was ready to kill them all where they stood. They had no choice but to lock me up each night."  
"Word has it the only thing that has changed is you are no longer restricted to one room. Now you at least have an entire castle to pace in."  
Amarth narrowed her eyes at Elrond's tone, wanting to bite his head off but knowing she shouldn't. If she changed the subject, would it look evasive? Be seen as weakness? She waited to long and Elrond's attention drifted away.  
"Now then."  
He looked to Gandalf.  
"Why were you on the Great East Road?"

* * *

"I am surprised by this approach," Amarth admitted, shaking off her escorts as Thorin approached.  
"I do not like elves," he admitted. "But you have proven where you stand."  
"You seek my council?" Amarth guessed, curiously.  
Thorin nodded, once, as if even that was painful. Amarth let out a deep breath.  
"Elrond is a good elf, though stubborn but then, so are they all. But Elrond is one of few in Middle Earth who can read your map. I understand your hesitation but I assure you of this, Elrond will do nothing dishonest."  
She met his eyes, lowering her voice as she drew closer.  
"There is much of our language you do not know. I will send Atiana with you. If Elrond does try something, seek her out after you are done and she will let you know."  
With that, Amarth slipped away, following her escorts with only one final glance over her shoulder, her eyes holding a silent good bye that made no sense to Thorin.

* * *

Atiana hovered behind the pillars of the great room, eyes closed listening.  
"Erebor," Elrond said. "What is you interest in this map?"  
"It's mainly academic," Gandalf lied. "As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text."  
That part he did not lie about. But her job was not to discern the lies of her own party from the truth. It was to put Thorin at ease that Elrond would have no chance to deceive him.  
"You still read ancient Dwarvish do you not?" Gandalf asked, his words following soft footfalls.  
Elrond spoke in a low tone, in a language unfamiliar to Atiana.  
"Moon runes," Gandalf gasped. "An easy thing to miss."  
"Well, in this case, that is true," Elrond admitted. "Moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season on the day they were written."  
"Can you read them?" Thorin asked.  
Elrond replied by leading them out to a balcony. Atiana hovered in the doorway, marveling at the beauty as the water fell around them in powerful and unending surges.  
"These runes were written on a Midsummer's Eve," Elrond said. "By the light of a crescent moon nearly 200 years ago."  
Atiana's attention was back on the Elfen king, remembering that she had two jobs. To assure Thorin he had nothing to fear from the Elfen king as well as to report everything to Amarth.  
"It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell," Elrond went on. "Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines upon us tonight."  
Atiana's attention moved to the moon overhead, the clouds rolling in to cover it for however long they pleased. And moved they did, light falling on those gathered on the balcony.  
"Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole," Elrond read.  
"Durin's Day?" Bilbo asked.  
"It is the start of the Dwarves' new year, when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together," Gandalf explained.  
Atiana was hit with the realization that that day was quickly approaching. So, it seemed, was Thorin.  
"This is ill news," he declared. "Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us."  
"We still have time," Balin said.  
"Time for what?" asked Bilbo.  
"To find the entrance," Balin replied.  
Atiana wanted to smile at how easy he made such a thing sound. Instead, she backed into the room, her mind going over what she had heard. Meanwhile, Elrond came in, his eyes falling on her as he approached. Without a word, he nodded her way and continued on. While she watched him go, Thorin joined her, face serious.  
"He said nothing-" she began.  
"I am aware," Thorin cut her off.  
"So, you sought me out for nothing?" she asked.  
"I sought you out for your company," the dwarf replied.  
"Then a walk," she offered.  
Thorin merely nodded, obviously entrapped what he'd been told. Still, Atiana was not one to pass up when opportunity was upon her. She fell in step with him as they left the room.  
"Durin's Day is quickly approaching," she began.  
"You never told me your purpose for coming," Thorin said.  
The change in subject was somehow not surprising and Atiana did not falter in step.  
"I wanted adventure," she replied.  
She was a good warrior but had never set foot past the castle without having to sneak. She was tired of sneaking, of being limited, of worrying she'd run into a party that would deposit her at the castle. To just say she wanted adventure sounded so frivolous.  
"Amarth insisted she be Captain of the Guards on top of being Queen," Atiana said.  
How else to begin?  
"On one trip out, she was injured. Not badly but it frightened Thranduil. He ordered her to be stripped of her rank and put under house arrest. She was never allowed to leave the castle and if she left, Thranduil was to be with her at all times. He isolated her from visiting ambassadors and such, never letting them see her face for fear they'd send assassins. He wanted to keep her safe. When I became pledged to their son, Thranduil imposed the same upon me only less strict. I could go outside alone, but never to hunt. I was to be the next Captain of the Guards but another won that honor."  
She sighed.  
"It was a life but it wasn't. We were not free, both of use powerful in our own way, yet less so then our husband or husband to be. When Gandalf offered this trip, I could not resist, could not stand to be left behind. So Amarth brought me along."  
She peeked at Thorin, who'd listened with interest.  
"That is my purpose for being here."

* * *

_Pale skin. It was over her, crushing her, laughing as she fought with a body too weak to do much damage past scratching and biting. Without a sword, without a dagger, she was weak, punching at a muscled creature that was crushing the air from her body, smile as he watched her die, laughing at the tears of frustration that slid down her cheeks. She kicked and kicked, screamed, wailed, all to no avail but to waste what little air she had. Not real! She could almost believe. As always, the choking, the gasping, gave way to the blackness that ate her vision, sending a sense of peace through her. Then, when she stopped struggling and her eyes had darkened, and only then did that pale body lift from her, his laughter wrapping around her as he marched away, speaking that black speech of his. Once was enough. But she would open her eyes, sit up too soon and that pale body would return for another go._

* * *

Amarth awoke before she repeated the dream. Sitting up, she brushed her hair back and rose, leaving her rooms. Dawn had yet to approach and Atiana had not returned to her. She was alone. No guards waiting to thrust her back into the room. She had no set destination in place. She needed her weapons. No, she could get more later. They needed to leave. Needed to go before Elrond came to check on her and take her back to Thranduil. With fire to urge her, she hurried on, breaking into a run.

* * *

Atiana awoke in a rush to Amarth's voice.  
"We must go!"  
The queen was still dressed for court in a robe not meant for travel. But Thorin seemed to agree with her assessment and began barking orders. Shaking off sleep, Atiana joined Amarth.  
"Not clothes to travel in," she remarked.  
Amarth didn't look like she cared.  
"We must go now," Amarth insisted.  
She locked eyes with Atiana.  
"Elrond means to send us back."  
It was the only explanation needed for her urgency. Atiana nodded that she understood.  
"Atiana," Amarth added quickly as Atiana went to turn away. "I think, until we can be sure that Elrond cannot find them, we must split from the company."  
"What? We have no means to travel. No horse, no supplies."  
"All of which we can take. As for a horse, I have something so much better. I can feel it nearby," Amarth urged.  
Saying no to the queen was simply unheard of. But Atiana could not agree with the plan, feeling that the woman behind it was full of too much paranoia and desperation.  
"This is our quest," Atiana declared. "And they our companions. We will not abandon them."  
"Abandon who?"  
The dwarves fell silent then, all eyes turning towards them, Dwalin leering at them. Atiana looked back at the dwarf with fierce displeasure. This was, after all, a private discussion.  
"Elrond has sent word to my husband," Amarth said. "No doubt, he intends to return me to him. Atiana as well. We must leave you. For once Elrond discovers we have left, he will surely send his troops after you."  
"Let those damn elves come," Thorin declared in a snarl.  
"Companions or not."  
Atiana's voice was cold.  
"They are still elves. They are still our kin. We would not just let you slaughter them."  
"Then perhaps," Balin spoke up before more words could be thrown. "You traveled another route. Only for a day or two. You'd reunite with us before we headed up the mountain."  
"No," Thorin declared.  
"And why not?" Atiana demanded of him.  
"The path is full of Orcs," Dori informed her.  
"Is it now?" Amarth mused.  
She was sounding more like herself, a mix of amusement and dark humor.  
"Tell us the way," Atiana urged Balin. "And we will meet you in two days time."


	5. Chapter 5

Wargs were fast. They reeked but were fast. Amarth urged her own forward, trying to keep up with Atiana in the trees above. It was when she lost sight of her friend, when the last Orc let out a death cry that she lost sight. Panic filled her. Had Atiana met her end with an arrow? Had she fallen? No sooner had the words squirmed into her head did a adrenaline filled body land behind her on the Warg, arms wrapping around Amarth to remain on the beast.  
"Go!" Atiana ordered, clearly unharmed. "I have taken care of them all but more will follow."  
Amarth needed no further urging, her Warg returning to the river bank as ordered and following it North. Just as Balin instructed.  
"Atiana," Amarth said. "We must find a place to rest."  
She was not tired but they had ridden a day straight. If they were to join once more with the company and head into the mountains, they would need as much strength as possible. Not only that but the Warg beneath was exhausted and starving. His speed could mean the difference between life or death for the two of them.  
"Very well," Atiana relented. "Circle back. I saw a clearing amongst dense trees. Small enough for an elf. Difficult for anything else."

* * *

Fire roared, dimly, so as to produce little smoke as Amarth and Atiana sat on opposite sides. Atiana ran her fingers through her long brown hair, coaxing knots from it. Amarth watched her, briefly, before she too took up the habit.  
"Who will stand guard?" Atiana inquired.  
She was not tired, not in the least. Her body was ready for battle.  
"Durin shall," Amarth replied, indicating the Warg.  
"Durin?"  
Atiana had informed her queen of Elrond's words, of their time limit. The queen had nodded, grimly but understood.  
"It is to remind us of our goal," Amarth replied.  
Her cold eyes were fierce.  
"Now sleep and be at ease. Durin will awaken us should there be anything to worry about."  
"Yes, my queen," Atiana sighed, laying down on the hard ground.  
"And stop that."  
Atiana looked at Amarth in confusion.  
"I am your queen but I am your travel companion as well. This is not an official envoy. It is an adventure. Thorin leads us. We do not lead each other. We are part of one whole and I do not lead them. I fight with them. I expect you to remember that. I am certain it is why you did not allow me to join you when you killed those Orcs. Believe me when I say though, the mountains are treacherous. Do not risk yourself to protect me or we will both perish."

* * *

Atiana did not believe her queen's words until the next day. She felt rain above them, beating down merciless, making the mountainside slick and hard to see. Behind her, she could hear Bilbo slip, the panic as the other dwarves saved him last minute. And still Thorin led on.  
"We must find shelter!" he yelled back.  
Atiana wanted to snap that that was rather obvious but she held her tongue. There would be time later, hopefully, if they survived. Despite her queen's words, she watched the elf up ahead. She'd sent Durin off with a whisper and then had borrowed a sword from the dwarves, slicing into the elegant robes of Rivendell, what was left barely reaching her knees. For a little while, the twins had teased her about it, earning laughs from the group, with the exception of Thorin and Atiana, who was mortified and often pulled into their jokes as they urged her to do the same. But those jokes had ended as the mountain had gotten worse and the rain had started.  
"Look out!"  
All heads rose, horrified as a sailing rock flew across the sky.  
"Brace!" Atiana yelled, clinging to the mountain side.  
That rock crashed above their heads, exploding in a shower of rocks and drawing screams from them all.  
"This is no thunderstorm!" Balin announced. "It's a thunder-battle."  
The mountain was moving. Pushing wet strands from her face, Atiana stared in shock at the stone giants.  
"The legends are true," she whispered in awe.  
Despite the danger and the shock, she watched in amazement. The one she watched yanked a rock free, throwing the boulder at something behind them. Turning, following the huge chunk of flying mountain, she discovered a second. More rock rained down, the mountain itself shaking. She screamed, realizing that they were on a third rock giant. Behind her, she could hear cries of objection, looking back to see that half the company was moving away. Was this what Amarth had meant by treacherous? She looked to her queen who was more focused on urging the dwarves forward, going so far as to dance past Thorin and take the lead. Cries of "Look out!" and "Run!" were lost to the rain as well as the thunder battle. There was more shaking and Atiana managed to hold in her screams. They would help no one. She clung to the giant, digging her nails in, watching then as the other part of their company flew by.  
"Jump!" Thorin bellowed, the only thing she heard over the storm. "Come on!"  
None of the dwarves moved as their giant got closer and closer to the mountainside. In horror and disbelief, Atiana watched as they were crushed between the stones, a sob catching in her throat, not only at their loss but at the possibility that she could die here. That she could be crushed. She was awash with fear.  
"NO!" Thorin roared.  
The giant withdrew, falling to the ground, no trace of the crushed dwarves in its wake.  
"No! Kili!"  
Amarth rushed forward, followed by Thorin and the rest. Atiana moved as fast, hoping, though it was unlikely, that the others were alive. Only Amarth and Thorin vanished around the corner completely but soon Gloin's voice rose past the rain.  
"It's all right! They're alive!"  
As relief washed away the fear she felt, tears escaped her eyes and she almost sagged in relief. But they were not safe yet. Not completely. Behind her, more panic arose.  
"Where's Bilbo? Where's the hobbit?"  
Atiana spun, ready to act, eyes scanning.  
"There!"  
Bilbo hung from the mountainside, his bare feet finding no traction, his hands slipping on the wet rock.  
"Get him!" Thorin roared.  
Atiana rushed forward, another dwarf knocking into her. Soon, she too was in Bilbo's predicament but with a better foothold. The hobbit looked her way, his fear evident. Atiana tried to offer him reassurance as she too struggled to pull herself up. Thorin cut their eye contact short, leaping down and seizing Bilbo. With little effort, he lifted him to his brothers' waiting hands who pulled him up. As he prepared to go up himself, Thorin caught sight of her and he slipped. A scream escaped Atiana, one much louder than any she'd uttered before and she let go, body leaving the relative safety of that mountainside. She would have fallen to her death had Amarth not grabbed her wrist with little effort, blue eyes glowing, hauntingly, as she yanked Atiana up.  
"Thorin!" Atiana began, breathless.  
"Dwalin got him," Amarth replied.  
Looking over, Atiana discovered this was true as the dwarf king emerged. She breathed a sigh of relief, meeting Amarth's eyes once more. They glowed no more, relief and a sort of smugness filling them. Amarth grinned.  
"You did not believe me, did you?" she guessed.  
Atiana went scarlet, briefly.  
"We are not safe yet," was all she said.  
"Untrue."  
Amarth turned away, enough so that she could gesture to a cave.  
"Found it right before Bilbo went over," she said.  
The dwarf king wasted no time, calling for Dwalin and then going inside. Amarth was next with Atiana close at her heels, determined that the queen would not be carrying a smug attitude for long.

* * *

"I saw you go over."  
Atiana looked into the king's eyes, huddled against Amarth, who's eyes were closed though she was still very much awake. Next, Thorin looked to Amarth.  
"And you, you stood there. You just watched. You did not help to the last second."  
Amarth did not even open her eyes at his accusation.  
"Atiana was fine until you slipped," she said. "She could have pulled herself up."  
Slowly, her eyes opened, colorless now, a full on white.  
"I only stepped in when she needed it."  
Thorin opened his mouth once more but Amarth held up a hand to stop him.  
"You can only teach so much. The student must then step back and apply what they have learned. The same is said about ruling. You can issue decrees all you want. But they must be used to hold any real value."  
Her words made no sense, which was her aim, and the dwarf king stormed away, his anger hiding his confusion. Amarth settled in beside Atiana again, seeking warmth.  
"When did you last sleep?" Atiana inquired.  
"Last night," Amarth replied.  
"Lies. Your eyes have only ever lost color when you have not slept for many nights."  
"Two is hardly many," Amarth spat. "Now do not worry about me, Atiana. I am capable of taking care of myself. Consider it an order."  
Atiana smirked smugly.  
"But, here, we are companions. You are not my queen," she insisted, innocent but oh so glad to be throwing the words back at their owner.  
Amarth chuckled, already falling into a doze. It wasn't a full sleep, which was what she needed but it was better than nothing.  
"Well played, my friend," she praised. "Well played."

* * *

A warm body pressed against Atiana's backside and she came awake a bit, her eyes at once on her sword which she'd removed from her back. It glowed blue, sending panic through her. Orcs or goblins. She sat up a bit, glancing over her shoulder, locking eyes briefly with Thorin. He seemed surprised that she was awake but she had no time to inquire on why they were so close. He looked away, dragging her eyes to the lines appearing in the sand floor they lay upon.  
"Wake up!" Thorin barked. "Wake up!"  
"Amarth," Atiana got out before the entire floor collapsed, pitching them all into the depths.  
Strong arms wrapped around her, cushioning her from the hard walls of the hole they fell into. Looking around, Atiana discovered Dwalin doing the same for Amarth, who struggled, still half asleep. Apparently her doze had deepened. Atiana's relief was short lived as she and the others plunged deeper into the mountain. Rather than remain useless, she hugged her dagger, her sword lost to her from the fall. Something, orc or goblin, would be waiting for them at the bottom. She wanted to be ready. The bottom arrived much fast than she thought and they all landed in a pile, in what looked to be a claw and she was ripped from Thorin's grasp, hitting the metal hard enough that she knew to expect a bruise. It wasn't long before more dwarf bodies crushed hers, and she felt trapped. Still though, she could see the goblins as they swarmed, their ugly little faces horrible. Somewhere above her, she heard Amarth swear. Under different circumstances, the dwarves, or more to the point, the twins, would have been all over her for using such foul language since she was an elf maiden. But in this case, the word was on all of their minds and they were in too deep to joke. Soon, goblins were upon them, yanking them forward, their grubby hands falling on her. She bit back a scream of rage and disgust as she was yanked up. Amarth had no problem fighting back, weaponless though she was. She lashed out with her nails, punching and kicking, still caught in her nightmares it seemed, even as she woke. Her breathing was much too fast though and she was going to wear herself out. It was only a matter of when. Didn't matter. The goblins subdued her, forcefully, dragging her even as she thrashed savagely. Atiana fought the ones holding and pushing her along, trying to fight her way to her queen but to no avail. It only succeeded in making her capture that much easier.

* * *

Amarth thrashed, panicked as she shook off her nightmare and came to be fully aware of the little goblins holding onto her. As if Azog wasn't bad enough! She hadn't even wanted to dream, settling in for a doze to keep her strength up. Yet she'd fallen into deep sleep and been awakened at the worst part of the nightmare by strong arms wrapped around her as she got the sensation she was falling. Those arms had proved to be Dwalin's, true, and he had released her upon impact only for her to be crushed beneath his brethren. Still, the goblins were too much too soon, looking so horrible. Worst of all was their king, his entire body one bowl of thick jelly, his beady eyes observing them. Amarth was dropped to the floor, scrambling behind the nearest dwarf only to be joined, seconds later, by Atiana.  
"Ati!" she gasped, hugging her friend.  
"We'll be fine," Atiana declared.  
She spoke the words to Amarth but her dark eyes were on the goblins watching them, as if she dared them to step forward.  
"The Halfling got away," Atiana said in Elvish, her voice a whisper.  
She offered a smile.  
"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?"  
The goblin king's voice killed that smile fast.  
"Spies? Thieves? Assassins?"  
His paranoia was worse than Amarth's, even at her worst moments.  
"Dwarves your Malevolence," one of the goblins spoke up.  
"Dwarves?" the filth king repeated.  
"We found them on the Front Porch."  
Beneath her breath, Amarth spoke another curse, obviously remembering it was her who had found the cave.  
"Well don't just stand there. Search them!" the king bellowed.  
Amarth had a death grip on Atiana as the goblins swarmed them, their grabby hands surging forward.  
"Every crack! Every crevice!" the king went on.  
They tried tearing the two women apart but they held tight, drawing blood and leaving marks, but holding their ground.  
"what are you doing in these parts?" the goblin king demanded.  
He had yet to see Amarth or Atiana yet, that was certain. His question was met with a deadly silence, which had to enrage him.  
"Speak!" he boomed.  
More silence.  
"If they don't say something," Amarth began.  
She trailed off, her eyes going to the goblins. They watched their king now, ignoring their prisoners for the most part. Amarth slowly reached under the dwarf she was using to hide her, Thorin she discovered, her fingers passing by his boot and seizing a dagger.  
"No," Atiana hissed.  
"I will not die without a fight," Amarth returned as she tucked the dagger in the long sleeves of the once billowing, now short robe she wore.  
There was a bleeding scratch on her bare shoulder but the shaking that had riddled her body ceased as soon as she had a weapon.  
"Very well. If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk," the goblin king decided.  
His subjects voiced their approval.  
"Bring up the mangler!" he boomed. "Bring up the bonebreaker!"  
This was his stage. Atiana wished she'd reached for a weapon as well.  
"Start with the youngest!"  
"Wait!" Thorin ordered.  
He stepped away from them, taking away their shelter.  
"Next dwarf," Atiana hissed, crawling over to Balin.  
Amarth did not move though, sitting calmly, dagger concealed but in her hand. And somehow, she was ... invisible. No, but she seemed to be unnoticed by the goblin king who only seemed to have eyes on Thorin.  
"Well, well, well," he semi chuckled. "Look who it is."  
Amarth moved then, bringing one leg up beneath her. Slowly though, as she got ready to move. Her body was tensed.  
"Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror...King under the Mountain!"  
Their was a mocking undertone as the goblin king announced Thorin. Atiana had the urge to slit his disgusting belly wide open.  
"Oh, but I'm forgetting. You don't have a mountain."  
And there was the punch line. His disgusting sack chin was the next thing to go, Atiana decided.  
"And you're not a king which makes you nobody, really."  
Last would be his tongue. She'd present that to Thorin, let him do what he saw fit with it. It was a gift after all. She would have thrown it away, given the filth it had come from. Amarth was on the balls of her feet now, ready to strike.  
"I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head."  
Dread blossomed in Atiana's gut.  
"Just a head. Nothing attached."  
She had a feeling she knew who it was and began praying she was wrong, praying that there were more people who hated Thorin Oakenshield enough to want his head.  
"Perhaps you know of whom I speak."  
Amarth was still on her feet but she listened, her eyes closed, her lips moving in a silent prayer. Please, please. No.  
"An old enemy of yours."  
That tone was far too sinister for Atiana's liking. She had a feeling the real punchline was coming up. The first had merely been a prelude, pillow talk really.  
"A pale Orc, astride a white Warg."  
Amarth's body began to tremble.  
"Don't say his name," Atiana breathed, her voice unheard to all but herself.  
She was not one who begged often. But Amarth was the one with the weapon. She needed to move and she needed to move now. There was still a chance for her to move. But if his name was uttered, she would lost it.  
"Azog the Defiler was destroyed," Thorin said, his voice low.  
His confidence in those words was shaken and yet, Amarth still held to them, body still ready even though that name hovered over her head.  
"He was slain in battle long ago."  
"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?"  
"Please, let them be," Atiana begged in a whisper.  
She was clinging to Balin, clinging because she needed to be grounded. The goblin king chuckled. She wanted to scream at him.  
"Send word to the pale Orc. Tell him I have found his prize."  
Atiana needed to scream at him. Amarth was clearly frozen, trapped in a place she only went to in her nightmares.  
"Amarth," she whispered.  
It was enough, it seemed.  
"Now then, I see you travel with an elf!"  
The goblin king sounded way to cheerful as his subjects scattered, revealing Amarth, still frozen. When she realized she had become a spectacle, she turned eyes that glowed a light blue, so light that they were the usual prelude to absolute white. If he hadn't been happy enough with Thorin, the goblin king's glee went through the roof.  
"You," he whispered, voice full of wonder.  
Amarth was forced to her feet, fully, shoved forward roughly, her body on auto pilot as she stumbled, able to regain her balance as the goblin king towered over her, his glee sickening.  
"A rare find. I've only ever heard stories of you," he declared.  
Amarth took a step back.  
"The only elf to grow up among Man and Dwarf," he chuckled. "And the most famous of Azog's defilements."  
The implication was too much. Amarth's head snapped around, her eyes a deep dark blue.  
"You filth," she spat. "I would have you drawn and quartered if I did not fear the mess of shit to follow."  
Atiana groaned, burying her face in her hands.  
"We're going to die."  
The goblin king let anger flash across his features followed by sick joy.  
"To the mangler with them all!" he bellowed.  
He laughed.  
"Bones will be shattered. Necks will be wrung. You'll be beaten and battered. From racks you'll be hung," he sang.  
His singing left much to be desired.  
"You will die down here. And never be found. Down in the deep of Goblin-town."  
Goblins seized her arms, yanking her to her feet as the rest moved in on the company. Amarth, of course, fought their grip, the dagger never making an appearance. Not yet. She did, however, look to the company.  
"I am so sorry," she said.  
A hiss rose up then, as Atiana prepared to dive for the weapon held by the goblin brat. It was Thorin's sword and it had the goblins swarming away, even their filth king.  
"I know that sword!" the king boomed. "It is the Goblin-cleaver."  
Atiana looked to the sword, aware that Thorin had moved closer to Amarth.  
"That is why we name swords," he whispered.  
"The Biter!" the goblin king continued.  
His subjects went wild, getting rougher and practically throwing their captives around. Atiana fell to her knees as one slapped her down, her hand closing on a sword as she was dragged back up.  
"The blade that sliced 1000 necks!"  
A whip cracked against her arm, searing pain shooting through the limb. But she held tight to the sword.  
"Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all!"  
Amarth was shoved down at her feet, her blue eyes zoned in on Atiana's.  
"Thorin," the queen urged.  
Atiana's eyes lifted, finding that the king had been subdued, held down by goblins.  
"Cut off his head!"  
"NO!" Atiana objected as the goblin lifted a rugged knife.  
Before she could react, a bright light flooded the darkened world, blinding her temporarily and sending the goblins flying. In the aftermath of it, Gandalf appeared, sword drawn, a true sight for sore eyes.  
"Take up arms," he said, surveying the goblins that were rising again.  
Atiana did not need to be told twice, yanking Atiana up and relinquishing the sword to her.  
"Fight."  
She retrieved a bow and a quiver of arrows by the time the dwarves were beginning to move.  
"Fight!" Gandalf roared.  
Battle cries and goblin snarls filled the air as goblins charged Gandalf as well as Atiana and Amarth. Amarth was merciless, slicing through the goblins with more savagery than was needed.  
"He wields the Foe hammer! The Beater!" the goblin king announced. "Bright as daylight!"  
Weapons flew overhead but Atiana ignored them, tuning into the battle, firing arrow after arrow in rapid succession. She stuck close to Amarth who watched her back, her sword and dagger routine something she had perfected before she was queen.  
"Follow me. Quick!" Gandalf urged.  
Atiana turned to obey, running towards the wizard only to realize that Amarth was not.  
"Amarth!" she cried.  
Eyes as black as death turned to her, a sure sign that Amarth was in frenzy mode. There was no reasoning with her. She turned to go, bumping into Thorin briefly.  
"Do not follow her example," he ordered. "Do not leave her behind!"  
"There's nothing I can do!" Atiana snapped.  
She shoved him towards Gandalf.  
"When she gets like this, she listens to no one. We have to go!"  
He gave up and ran after Gandalf, yelling something to his men in Dwarvish. A savage cry followed not soon after and Atiana glanced back, surprised to see Fili with Amarth slung over his shoulder, running after them.  
"Run!" Gandalf yelled.  
She did not need to be told twice.


	6. Chapter 6

She was being carried, a feeling she didn't like but she could understand. Her vision had blackened and she'd let her temper do her fighting.  
"Quickly!"  
"Gandalf?" she asked.  
She bit her tongue, having opened her mouth as the dwarf carrying her was running.  
"Back then?" he asked.  
"Put me down!" Amarth commanded.  
"Beginning to sound like Uncle," the dwarf quipped, setting her down midstride.  
She faltered but fell in step as she followed the pointy tip of Gandalf's hat. Atiana was much further up ahead, proving why she was the best archer in Thranduil's court. Goblins growled behind them, the little twits surrounding them with ease.  
"Posts!" Dwalin yelled.  
"Posts?" Amarth repeated.  
As one, the dwarves and Gandalf lifted a put together post, using it as a battering ram of sorts and sweeping the path ahead clear of goblins. The path split and she followed those who went the upper route, glancing around. She was still somewhat disoriented. Not so much that she couldn't enjoy slicing the goblins as they shrieked at her and attacked. She only wished she'd gotten to slice open the goblin's king for revealing the past that few knew of her. But there would be time for that later. She adjusted her grip on her blood soaked hilt, slicing a goblin's head off with ease, only to realize the blood on her hilt was mostly hers, a red river sliding down her arm and pooling on her hand and, likewise, on her sword. Amarth paused, giving the sword and arm a few practice swings. She hadn't lost use of it yet. With a roll of her shoulders, she continued after the others, stopping again when an arrow pierced by rather closely to her cheek, landing in the throat of a goblin behind her. She followed the arrows assumed path, meeting Atiana's smug eyes before her friend went back to her firing. Amarth let out a laugh that she hoped would unnerve the goblins. Because she wasn't scared. She may have been running but she wasn't. In fact, she was pissed.

* * *

An arrow nicked her leg, not enough of a wound to do much but hurt and Atiana hissed, returning fire. She felt the bridge underneath swing. Honestly, she wasn't paying attention to what was going on. They were outnumbered and trapped and she just reigned arrows down upon the goblins, giving everyone as much cover as possible. She was aware that Amarth was back to herself and still with them, thanks to Fili and, she suspected, Thorin.  
"Jump!" he bellowed and she did, running forward with her bow ready.  
If her count was corrected, she only had one left. Best to save it for later. Now her focus was on running, on keeping ahea- The goblin king burst through the path ahead, sending boards flying as she skidded to a halt, not wanting to admit that her elevated heart beat was not just from the running.  
"Watch your backs!" Gloin warned.  
Atiana turned to find goblins flooding in.  
"You thought you could escape me," the goblin king asked.  
She heard and felt his staff hit the bridge, struggling to shove back goblins.  
"What are you going to do now, Wizard?"  
Good question. Atiana glanced back at Gandalf, hoping he had a plan. Gandalf stepped forward, slamming his staff into the goblin's eye, his sword slicing through that fat mess and sending the scum to his knees. The goblin king seemed stunned briefly.  
"That'll do it," he admitted.  
Another slice and his throat was history, his heavy body flopping onto the bridge, the first sign of weakness choosing then to rear its ugly head. Atiana froze, as if not moving would stop the boards from breaking. No such luck. The structure broke, their part falling and taking others with it. Atiana allowed herself to scream, as she was almost ripped from the very path by pure force alone. A strong grip, Kili, grounded her and she looked to Amarth who was on her knees, clinging to a sturdy board, a grin on her face as they fell. It was nice to know she was still insane. The crash, or imminence of it, wiped her grin off but not in time to think of a way out. In one second, they were crushed by boards and dwarves alike, the two of them harmonizing a groan. Gandalf, meanwhile, separated himself from the pile, shaking off dust. Everyone seemed to be fine.  
"Well, that could have been worse," Bofur decided to say.  
No sooner had the words left his mouth when the goblin king's body dropped onto them.  
"Haver!" Dwalin groaned. "You've got to be joking!"  
Fighting against boards and thick dwarf bodies alike, Atiana could not agree more.  
"Gandalf!" Kili cried from beside her, his stare focused on a hoard of goblins still charging towards them.  
"Great" Atiana mumbled, scrambling free.  
"There's too many," Dwalin declared. "We can't fight them."  
"Only one thing will save us," Gandalf said. "Daylight."  
Atiana glanced at the dwarves then the goblins.  
"Come on! Here! On your feet!" the Wizard commanded.  
There was panic as they all ran, weaving through the narrow passage, mountain cutting into their skin.  
"Quick, quick," Gandalf urged.  
He let them all pass into the sunlight before following himself. As day hit them, blinded them though they kept running, Atiana fell back to the Wizard's side.  
"I think," she panted. "A head count is in order."

* * *

"Five, six, seven, eight," Gandalf counted, mostly to himself. "Bifur, Bofur, that's 10."  
The wizard drew to a stop, watching the company regather itself. Atiana was already at a standstill, sinking on the ground, partially because her legs and feet hurt but more because they were weak with relief.  
"Fili, Kili. That's 12," Gandalf went on. "And Bombur, that makes 13."  
He sounded relieved that the official company was together.  
"Bilbo," Amarth said.  
She was leaning against a tree, blood tripping from the hilt of her sword to the ground, her arm holding tight to her right shoulder. Blood gushed from it. Concern welled up in Atiana but wounds were for later. They had to make sure their party was together. And in this case, it was not.  
"Where's Bilbo?" Gandalf asked. "Where is our hobbit?"  
No one answered, the twins looking around their general area as if Bilbo was playing a game.  
"Where is our hobbit?" Gandalf demanded.  
"Cure that Halfling! Now he's lost?" Dwalin snapped.  
"I thought he was with Dori!" Gloin piped up.  
"Don't blame me!" Dori snapped.  
"Well where did you last see him?" Gandalf pressed.  
"I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us."  
Gandalf turned toward the dwarf who spoke.  
"And what happened exactly?" he demanded. "Tell me!"  
"I'll tell you what happened."  
This from Thorin.  
"Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He has thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door."  
Atiana could not imagine that all who were in the company had not thought of the same thing, wanting desperately to be home with all the comforts. She would gladly admit to it, enjoying their short time at Rivendell among food prepared to suit her dietary preferences.  
"We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone."  
"Is that a bet," Atiana almost said, biting her lip last second.  
A low chuckle alerted them all to Amarth who was bent over in amusement. Dark amusement.  
"You fool," she laughed. "So little you think of a hobbit. Mere days ago, Atiana would think along the lines you do, about you or Bilbo. Now, she has faith in our hobbit. Yet, you remain blind."  
Thorin grew enraged, glaring at her.  
"Our hobbit is long gone," Thorin repeated.  
"No. He isn't."  
All heads swiveled to Bilbo as he stepped from the forest.  
"Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf laughed. "I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life."  
"Bilbo," Kili said. "We'd given you up."  
"How on earth did you get past the goblins?" Fili asked.  
"How indeed."  
"Well what does it matter?" Gandalf asked. "He's back."  
"It matters," Thorin declared. "I want to know."  
Atiana almost let out a groan, resting her head against the tree.  
"Why did you come back?"  
Bilbo studied the dwarf king for a moment.  
"Look, I know you doubt me. I know you always have. And you're right. I often think of Bag-end. I miss my books. And my armchair and my garden," Bilbo admitted. "See, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back. Because ... you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."  
Atiana lifted her head, her eyes on Amarth who was clearly impressed by the hobbit's words. Meanwhile, Thorin didn't seem to know what to make of them, falling silent which was probably for the best. Silence fell in the wake of those words which made the howling of the Wargs that much worse. Amarth's slowly closing eyes had flown open as everyone else became alert as well. At first, Atiana hoped it was merely Durin but there was more than one howl.  
"Out of the frying pan," Thorin grumbled.  
"And into the fire. Run," Gandalf finished. "Run!"  
The group did not have to be told twice, bolting through the forest even as the howls got closer. Amarth was at her side, her eyes determined as they fell into step with each other.  
"I will not die here," Amarth declared. "Promise me the same."  
Atiana grinned.  
"I did not survive orc packs, storm giants, goblins and dwarf food to die today," she declared.  
"I was thinking the same," Amarth replied. "Though childbirth was on my list as well."  
Despite the danger, Atiana found herself laughing just as a Warg sailed over their heads, skidding to a stop and whirling on them. Atiana copied it, skidding across the ground. Amarth kept going, leaping over its snapping jaws and stabbing her sword between its shoulder blades. It cried out, pathetically, before she drew her sword back and kept running. Atiana also leapt over the whimpering creature, rejoining the company in time to see them climbing into trees. Both elves had enough time to find perches before Wargs swarmed the area.  
"Like being back home," Atiana said dryly to Amarth.  
"Back home, nothing chased us into trees," Amarth returned.  
Atiana couldn't argue, drawing her last arrow.  
"Still have that dagger," she asked.  
Amarth went for it, having tucked it in her boot at some point but she suddenly froze, eyes locked on something. Atiana followed her gaze as a white Warg padded into view, his rider a pale orc. Fear had done many things to Atiana. It had frozen her, filled her and left her. But never had it choked her, left her mouth gaping, her body almost bloodless as she stared at the horror of Amarth's nightmares. Thorin's face looked very much like the Elven Queen's.  
"Azog," he gasped.  
The white Warg growled, his master leaning forward, breathing deep and speaking in Black Speech.  
"It cannot be," Thorin whispered.  
The orc surveyed his prey, caught in trees, smelling of fear and that's when he saw Amarth. She didn't shake or shiver or tremble. She didn't whimper or cry out. She was soundless, motionless, her fear turning her into a statue. Those blue eyes widened a bit but it was clear his main focus was Thorin. Still, he pointed his mace at Amarth, speaking in Black Speech once more. Atiana quickly made a mental note to learn it as soon as she had the time. Amarth took a shivering and weak breath, breathing out.  
"I will not... die here," she whispered to herself, sounding like she wanted to cry.  
The Wargs charged forward, leaping into the trees, snarling, their jaws snapping. Atiana's screams mixed with the dwarves as she almost lost her grip on the branch she was on. No worry that Amarth would, her grip made her hands a very pale white, especially against the red dripping from her shoulder wound. Droplets of blood dripped onto the Wargs below, the creatures driven wild by the preview of dinner as they ripped away branches. Their weight knocked the trees from their roots each time they slammed into the trunks.  
"Amarth!" Atiana cried, the tree falling victim to the Wargs' bulk. "We have to move!"  
Amarth was frozen in place, lips moving, no sound coming out.  
"Amarth!" Atiana nearly screamed.  
She was a survivor. It made her a good fighter. But she was a good friend too.  
"Amarth, please, move."  
Even without the threat of Thranduil, of the fear he'd behead her with no remorse if his wife did not return, she could not have left Amarth in that tree. But it was clear Amarth would not be leaving either. Reaching out, Atiana seized Amarth's hand, holding those cold fingers like she'd done that first time she'd met Amarth, the haunted eyes worse then when she'd been brought to Thranduil's court by force. There'd been no time to introduce her slowly.  
"That time has passed," she urged, soothingly, trying to keep the panic from her own voice.  
It had been hard enough talking Amarth down. How much harder would it be with Azog only feet away? But what could she possibly say? What could she possibly use to save Amarth from that dark place?  
"Think of your son!" Atiana urged, the answer coming to her. "Think of Legolas! He needs you or else he'll become just like his father. Do you want that?"  
"Legolas?" Amarth repeated.  
"Yes!" Atiana said, almost bursting into tears.  
Just as their tree fell.


	7. Chapter 7

Hands grabbed them, yanking them into the tree next to theirs before the Wargs could fall upon them. It was the last tree.  
"No," Atiana whispered beside her.  
Amarth, meanwhile, looked to Gandalf. He met her eyes, clearly trying to think up a solution.  
"I will not die here," Amarth mouthed.  
The Wizard nodded, reaching for a pine cone. It took some coaxing but the thing quickly alighted, sailing past their heads and landing on the ground. The Wargs did not like that, backing up.  
"It worked," Amarth whispered.  
In no time at all, pine cones sailed through the air, carrying fire and forcing the Wargs back.  
"HA!" Atiana laughed.  
No sooner had the word left her mouth, there came an awful sound as their tree began to fall.  
"Not this again!" Atiana objected.  
She glanced back, the others barely holding on. Amarth had returned to her statue like state, though by choice not because of fear.  
"Do it, Thorin," she whispered. "Give us more time."  
Atiana heard her queen's words, confused until Thorin acted on them, rising and striding down the tree trunk like the king he was to be.  
"No!" Atiana objected.  
She looked to Amarth who had risen as well, rolling her shoulders before running after Thorin.  
"Amarth!" Atiana called, watching the two rulers face down the orc.  
Azog's mount leapt forward and in the blink of an eye, Thorin was down, the Orc turning to hit him again. Atiana buried her face in her arm but Amarth surged forward, sword ready, feeling pain as the white Warg crunched on Thorin's arm. Azog's eyes however found her and he smiled a terrible smile but she forced herself to keep moving, fueled further as the dwarf king was thrown through the air. Like good minions, the pack blocked her path, slowed her down but all would die. As she killed, she was aware of Bilbo passing her, only knowing it was him by the light sound of feet.  
"Go," she whispered, hoping he heard.  
She knew that she would get no further to the pale Orc. And for that, she was a coward. But Bilbo. He was not. With a yell, he tackled the Orc ordered to take Thorin's head, stabbing at the creature before he could do any harm.

* * *

"We have to do something," Atiana insisted. "Now someone give me a sword."  
The twins had looked at each other briefly but had obeyed, handing her a spare sword Kili had carried. Atiana had not waited for the other dwarves, charging forward but their battle cry sounded behind her. She was precise, slicing through the thin skin that was the Wargs' throats, ducking to let whoever came behind her finish the job. Her eyes caught sight of Bilbo about to fall prey to the pale Orc and she reached for her bow, for her last arrow, sword still in hand, though loosely. She would end it all here. The nightmares, the uncertainty. She would leave no question that the man was dead. Before she could release the arrow though, sharp talons caught her cloak, lifting her into the air. Atiana, thinking it a Warg, slashed at it, only to be dropped onto the feathered back of an eagle. With wide eyes, she looked upwards, looking down at Gandalf's amused face. Powerful wings carried her above the battlefield, seizing a Warg and carrying it to its doom before banking right in a full circle and swiping up a dwarf. Atiana looked for Amarth but her companion was either lost to smoke and fire or carried away already on eagles' wings.

* * *

Black speech reached her ears as she watched the eagles overhead, knowing one would be down to get her. All she needed was patience but it seemed like she had lost time. Azog emerged on his white Warg, teeth bared as he spoke.  
"All this time," he said.  
Amarth took one step back. She wasn't brave enough for this. She had the tools, the skills but she had not the emotional strength to face a man who became a giant in her dreams. But she could see the scars she'd left, the one knife wound she'd gotten and felt proud.  
"You sought to ruin me," she said. "And you failed. I am a queen now. A mother. A wife. And what are you? Nothing but Orc filth."  
Her own lips curled back in a snarl of disgust. The Orc was clearly amused.  
"For how long?"  
Before she could reply, a dagger sliced her back and she cried out, instinct wanting her to live. And live she did, whirling, stabbing the orc who held her sword. She did not fight for it, releasing the blood encrusted hilt and running. She stepped through the flames, running across the tree trunk and leaping into the air, only to be caught by an eagle. It was only when she was flying away from the Defiler that she allowed herself even the barest measure of surrender, slumping against the eagle in exhaustion.

* * *

Two wounded. Dawn's light revealed Thorin had not woken. And Amarth's blood was staining the feathers of her eagle. Both wounded. Both unconscious. Both at fault. The eagles circled, setting Thorin down first. Meanwhile, Amarth's stayed sky born as if sensing that only one patient could be taken care of at a time. Each eagled landed, releasing first Gandalf and then the rest. Atiana did not wait, leaping off her eagle when it was close enough and it circled back to the sky where Amarth's kept her captive. To ease one worry though, Thorin was getting to his feet, Bilbo once more his target.  
"You!" he said. "What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed!"  
Thorin approached slowly, reminding Atiana too much of a Warg.  
"Did I not say that you would be a burden?"  
"Gandalf, Amarth," Atiana began impatiently.  
The wizard rested one hand on her shoulder, trying to ease her.  
"I would see she is well enough to argue before we allow her anywhere near Thorin."  
Atiana could not agree more.  
"That you would not survive in the Wild? That you had no place amongst us?"  
"Such gratitude," Atiana remarked.  
Thorin paused, his heavy pants the only sound as everyone else held their breaths.  
"I have never been so wrong in all my life."  
The dwarf king wrapped his arms around Bilbo in absolute relief, drawing back moments later.  
"But I'm sorry I ever doubted you."  
Atiana couldn't help but smile.  
"He is a true king," she admitted.  
"That he is," Gandalf remarked as Amarth's eagle landed.  
It eased its wounded to the stone.  
"Attend to her before Thorin changes course," Gandalf advised.  
Atiana nodded, rushing to Amarth's side as the dwarves beheld Erebor.  
"You damn fool," Atiana whispered, for once glad Amarth was not awake to argue.

* * *

The dwarves paused in making camp at the yowl that echoed from behind the curtain of brush erected by Atiana for privacy.  
"Have more care!" Amarth insisted.  
"I should say the same to you," was Atiana's reply.  
That was followed by a rich chorus of laughter. Thorin noticed that the men seemed more at ease around the two elves or more at ease in general given that they'd put some distance between Azog and themselves as well as gotten a peek at Erebor. He was still uneasy. He'd seen the elf queen, seen her fear consume her, however briefly. The first time they had met, she had informed him that she shared a similar history with an enemy he had. And the goblin filth had implied something, though it wasn't good. He needed confirmation. Atiana surprised him, pushing aside the brush.  
"She knows you're waiting and says go on in," Atiana informed him.  
Thorin did so, ducking in. The elf was swaddled in Fili's coat, the robe she'd been wearing covered in blood and grime. Not good for her wounds.  
"Oakenshield," she greeted.  
She tried for her usual smug look but she was much too tired.  
"Azog," he led with. "Explain your history with him."  
Amarth sighed deeply.  
"I lived amongst Man for 100 years. It is nothing for an elf but a lifetime for Man. Passing dwarves took me in, promising to take me to an elf kingdom but the family I was with... I grew very attached. They taught me to fight. And we were happy. But... Azog... he just appeared one day..."  
Her eyes flitted back a forth, a haunted shadow taking them.  
"He slaughtered them all, mercilessly, laughing when they screamed. And..."  
She stopped.  
"He carved his name, the Defiler, into my body," she finished.  
She implied that there was more but Thorin would not ask past that. Atiana came back then, balancing bowls three bowls of stew.  
"If you find this impressive, hand me a fourth," she joked, offering one to Thorin.  
She caught his eye, her usually dark colored eyes a light wash of gold and hazel.  
"Your men need you," she said. "They need their spirits lifted. I am perfectly capable of taking care of my queen."  
Thorin nodded and left them, pausing briefly outside and waiting. After a few moments, they began talking.  
"We're so close to home," Atiana remarked.  
"You think Thranduil would believe us so stupid?" Amarth inquired.  
"He knows we're traveling the Great East Road," Atiana insisted.  
Amarth was silent.  
"Have you ever wondered why it's called the Great East Road? What exactly is so great about it? It's just a road," she said after a moment's pause.  
"You're avoiding the subject."  
"I am," Amarth agreed. "My husband may be smart but he only has so many resources. There's no point in worrying."  
"And yet I still find myself unable to not."  
"We've survived goblins and the pale orc, have some faith," Amarth insisted.  
"Goblins and Azog pale, forgive my pun, in comparison to a dragon," Atiana retorted in a short tone.  
Amarth said nothing. After all, what could she say in the face of such undeniable truths.

* * *

Balin spread the map, moving his meaty finger along its worn pages.  
"This is the best route," he said. "Quickest way there."  
"Ah," Atiana objected. "But there are no taverns, no towns. Amarth needs clothes and we need food. I need arrows as well."  
She pointed to a separate route.  
"This one is much better. There's a tavern."  
"But we're running out of time," Balin argued.  
Atiana locked eyes with the dwarf.  
"So we should get there quickly but be completely worn out, malnourished and low on weapons when we face the dragon?"  
Balin made a face but conceded, shooing her. Atiana left the disgruntled dwarf, her intent to head straight for Amarth when Thorin stepped into her path.  
"A word, Atiana," he requested.  
She flashed him a smile.  
"But of course, your highness," she said.  
He cast a quick glance Dwalin's way, shaking his own head at the dwarf who was shaking his head and then escorted Atiana on yet another walk, this one through the dense woods around them.  
"I asked Gandalf about you," he began once they were alone.  
Atiana cast a glance at him, curious. He did not look at her.  
"He told me that you had grown up under Thranduil, raised originally to be his wife and had never left the Mirkwood."  
Atiana made a face, remembering that unsavory business of finding that she'd been raised for the sole purpose of ruling alongside Thranduil.  
"Yes," Atiana confirmed. "As soon as I was old enough, I began a very long and rigorous process to ensure that I would be a suitable queen."  
"And now you are pledged to his son," Thorin remarked.  
Atiana smiled.  
"Many find it odd. They are so willing to see an older king and a young queen but the other way around and its weird. But Legolas won me over. He will be a good king."  
She looked at Thorin full on.  
"You did not ask me out here to speak of my life, now did you?" she asked.  
Thorin returned her gaze.  
"I allowed my opinion of you to be shaped by what I heard from the Wizard. Time and time again you have surprised me. I only ask for your forgiveness for my judgment," he said.  
Atiana's smile turned into a grin.  
"And you have it," she declared. "If you will forgive me."  
The look of confusion that decorated Thorin's noble face was comical.  
"I have never met a dwarf or a hobbit or a wizard. I have lived among elves and they are less than kind to others. My opinions were of an unpleasant sort as well," Atiana admitted. "I was rather…wary of the dwarves in your company and you as well."  
"And now?" Thorin asked.  
"And now I see that there is little difference between us. I see that there is laughter and deep bonds between even dwarves."  
She looked in the direction of camp.  
"Many often wondered how Amarth could stand being with the dwarves for so long. And willingly at that. Now I see."  
She turned her grin to Thorin.  
"You are a good people."  
Thorin's mouth opened as he prepared to speak but he didn't get the chance to.  
"Thorin! We're ready!"  
At that moment, Atiana cursed Dwalin and Balin, the latter of which had no doubt finally argued for the slightly longer route.  
"What impeccable timing," Thorin remarked, obviously displeased.  
"Truly," Atiana agreed.  
"Ati! You best hurry or I'll simply shatter!" Amarth called, a sarcastic edge to her voice.  
"You may be queen but you're not that delicate!" Atiana yelled back.  
She glanced at Thorin.  
"Perhaps we could continue this conversation at a later time," she suggested, hopeful.  
Thorin returned her smile with one of his own, the slow, warm ones that she'd come to realize where incredibly rare.  
"Yes, perhaps we could."

* * *

Durin was near. The Warg was somewhere nearby, probably keeping his distance because of the dwarves. Which was good. Amarth secured Fili's coat tighter around herself, the spare shirt she wore beneath it also his. She was aware of his intentions. He hoped to gain favor with Atiana by showing her his willingness to service her queen. An excellent strategy if only Atiana had not taken a shine to the lad's uncle. Amarth found herself caring little. After all, Legolas could stand to be humbled by this challenge. He was too much like his father already. A cry rose up from the dwarves, one of relief and excitement. Amarth could see why as they approached the tavern. She had a hope for a real bed, her back still sore.

* * *

"We're stopping here," she decided aloud.  
Thorin turned at her words.  
"We're here to get supplies," he declared. "Then we move on until dusk."  
"You may," she retorted. "I intend to sleep in a real bed tonight."  
She didn't wait for him to respond to that, marching for the tavern.  
"She makes a good point," Bilbo piped up. "Camping is not everyone's strong suit."  
His words were neutral but Atiana glared nonetheless.  
"Yes, perhaps a soft bed is what we all need," Gandalf remarked, smoking softly on his pipe.  
Thorin cast a glance at Atiana who offered him a smile. The dwarf king sighed, deeply.  
"Fine," he relented.  
He glanced at Kili.  
"Go catch up to Amarth," he instructed, tossing a bag.  
Kili nodded, grinning ear to ear before running after Amarth as instructed.

* * *

Atiana sunk into the bed, sighing deeply in content. Amarth was doing the same in the bed across hers.  
"How's you back?" Atiana inquired, rolling onto her side.  
Night had yet to fall and streams of sunlight still cut through, shining on Amarth's face as she rolled over as well.  
"Better. Still a bit sore," she replied.  
"I guessed," Atiana laughed. "You've been grumpy as of late."  
Amarth snorted.  
"Since when have you been so much fun?"  
"Always!" Atiana objected.  
"Yes, fun for an elf. Now you're right up there with the dwarves," Amarth retorted. "Speaking of which."  
Amarth sat up.  
"No doubt they'll be drinking tonight," she said. "It would not be a dwarf party without ale."  
There was a knock on the door, cutting off Atiana's response. Atiana rose before Amarth could, answering the door. She had expected the inn keeper or a servant. Instead, she found Thorin.  
"Your Highness," she greeted, aware of Amarth peeking over her shoulder.  
Thorin made it obvious he was aware as well, then held out a parcel and a quiver of arrows.  
"Balin brought it to my attention that you were low," he explained. "And clothes for Amarth."  
Amarth swiped the parcel fast.  
"Uh, finally!"  
Atiana closed the door halfway fast as her queen threw off Fili's borrowed clothes. Her face was bright red.  
"Thank you," she said quickly as she accepted the quiver. "This saves me alot of trouble."  
Thorin offered her a quick nod as he turned to go.  
"Oh!" Atiana added quickly. "Amarth tells me there will be drinking tonight. Is she right?"  
This made Thorin turn back, a smirk on his face. A very charming smirk at that.  
"We would not be dwarves if there were not."

* * *

"You know, I do not like to say I told you so," Amarth began.  
"Since when?" Atiana cut in.  
Amarth fixed her with a look, one that expressed her displeasure.  
"I am trying to be civil," she said. "But you have a tendency to make it so hard."  
"Just giving you a taste of your own medicine," Atiana retorted.  
A boisterous laugh drowned out Amarth's sarcastic retort as the two entered the dining portion of the tavern. The dwarves seemed to fill the whole room, each holding a mug of ale. Gandalf sat apart as did Thorin who was nursing his own brew, a somber expression on his face. Atiana felt bad, realizing that he too had issues with the pale orc that had not been resolved. She looked to Amarth who was studying the other patrons with a very deducing eye.  
"Amarth," she began.  
Amarth pushed her in Thorin's direction.  
"Go to your dwarf," she ordered. "Don't waste your time with me."  
"Don't waste your time period!" Kili urged, appearing before them, a wide grin on his face.  
His entire face was flushed and he was clearly drunk or very, very close to it. Without waiting for their response, he shoved sloshing pints of ale into their hands, grinning.  
"Always wanted to see one of you dainty elves drunk," he laughed.  
"Dainty?" Atiana repeated, taking offense.  
Elves were great warriors.  
"I believe he has just insulted our race," Amarth said, feigning shock, looking at Atiana and trying not to laugh.  
"Well, I for one cannot stand for it," Atiana declared.  
Amarth gave her a challenging look, one that told her to do something about it. So Atiana did, bringing the ale to her lips, throwing her head back and drinking deep. In five large gulps, she was done, slamming the pint on a table and fixing Kili with a smug grin.  
"That all you got?" she demanded.

* * *

Amarth moved away as the dwarves gathered around Atiana, laughing and watching as she and Kili engaged in a drinking contest. Meanwhile, Amarth left the tavern, taking her ale with her. After a few more steps, when she was sure no one had followed her, she paused.  
"You can come out now," she called into the night.  
No words followed that as the elf she knew was in the shadows dropped from the tree overhead. She smiled, recognizing him as one of Thranduil's lower guards.  
"So, he is stretching himself out thinly," Amarth mused.  
The elf dropped to one knee.  
"My queen, please, return to Mirkwood," he urged. "Your king-"  
"My king is no doubt mad beyond belief," Amarth laughed. "And it serves him right."  
The elf said nothing, silent as the shadows he'd been hiding in.  
"Arise," Amarth instructed. "Return to my king and tell him this: I shall return when I wish. No sooner. And make sure he knows when I do return, things must change."  
The elf had no choice but to comply. He would have to injure her to force her to go back and she obviously was not going back willingly. Amarth smiled sweetly, turning away from him to head back into the tavern. When she walked into the tavern, Atiana was chugging back what looked like her twelth pint while Kili was drooping, using the table to hold himself up as he struggled to finish his pint. Atiana was firm on her feet, steady and ready for more. Amarth laughed, sliding into the seat across from Thorin, still watching Atiana.  
"Isn't she something?" Amarth asked.  
"Yes," Thorin admitted. "Not like most elves."  
"I can't help feeling like that was pointed at me," Amarth said dryly.  
Thorin was silent for a moment, his eyes on Atiana as she slammed down her twelth, plucking Kili's half finished pint and throwing that back. Kili toppled to the floor to the sound of dwarves crying in disbelief and amusement as they churned around Atiana, full of congratulations.  
"I have found elves to be full of trickery and motives," Thorin said. "They are hard to read and cannot be trusted. Especially those who rule."  
Amarth shrugged.  
"You'd be surprised how fast you can get corrupted within the court," she said. "If it hadn't been me, then it would have been Atiana. And we wouldn't be here today."  
One of Thorin's eyebrows rose in question. Amarth sighed.  
"Atiana did not want to marry Thranduil," she explained. "So I interceded. And that's all I will say."  
"Say on what?"  
Amarth didn't seem surprised at Atiana's voice, rising from her chair.  
"On what way Thorin here should decorate his throne room when he gets his castle back," Amarth lied without blinking an eye. "Since its under a mountain, I urged him to copy the valley."  
Atiana grinned, rolling her eyes.  
"Yes, because you made the Mirkwood court into such an enchanting glade."  
Amarth returned the grin.  
"I have excellent taste."  
She turned away then, heading for the dwarves still on their feet.  
"Alright, I'm next!" she declared as she approached.  
The dwarves broke into another round of boistrous noise, crowding around Amarth as another drinking contest ensued.  
"Twelve and a half pints of ale," Thorin led with as Atiana took Amarth's seat. "Enough to put a dwarf lad to shame."  
Atiana beamed at him.  
"More proof that I am not just a pretty face."  
Thorin's eyes captured her.  
"No, no, you are much more," he agreed.  
Atiana blushed now, her eyes drifting to the side as a silence that wasn't completely awkward descended on them. It was Thorin who broke it.  
"Do you really feel nothing?" he asked, indicating the ale in his own pint.  
"Now that you mention it," Atiana said, touching her stomach. "I do feel a sort of ... bubbling in my pit."  
Thorin opened his mouth to respond or to offer a suggestion on what that bubbling could be when it revealed its origin by forcing its way from her mouth in an overpowering burp. When the sound faded, there was a long silence. Thorin stared at her in surprise. Just as it became unbearable, an extremely girlish and free laugh rang out. Turning, Atiana discovered Amarth, bent over, coughing up ale as she laughed around it, tears leaking out of her eyes. Atiana was surprised. Amarth laughed, yes, but always with restraint and rarely pure, uncaged joy. She would have loved to listen to the sound longer but the dwarves burst into laughter as well and overpowered the sound. Atiana turned back to Thorin who was grinning at her, his gorgeous eyes dancing.  
"Truly you are more than just a pretty face."


	8. Chapter 8

The door swung open with some force, Thorin stomping in.

"Wake up call," he announced.

Atiana rolled over, stretching.

"Too early," she moaned.

Through her barely parted eyes, she could see that there was a lack of sun streaming in the window.

"We've spent long enough here," Thorin declared.

He was stomping around the room, lighting the candles that Amarth and Atiana had used to light there way to their room when they'd come up. At separate times. Atiana glanced over at Amarth, not surprised to find the bed empty. Which wasn't all that surprising. Amarth rarely slept through the night. With a yawn, Atiana fell back onto her pillow, blowing out the newly lighted candles and covering her head with her blanket.

"We have not," she mumbled. "I'm going back to sleep."

Thorin was standing over her, staring down.

"Atiana, wake up," he ordered. "We have to go."

Atiana was set to ignore him, already falling asleep.

"Very well," Thorin said. "You have forced my hand."

* * *

"Thank you very much," Amarth said to Fili, returning his clothing with a slight bow.

Fili seemed uncomfortable by the gesture, accepting his clothes with an obvious blush across his face.

"A-anytime," he managed.

Yawning and rubbing his eyes, Kili joined them, flinging an arm across his brother's shoulders, launching into his usual teasings as Amarth left the two of them. She drifted over to Balin and Dwalin, stifling a yawn.

"Morning," she greeted.

The dwarves sized her up.

"You look tired," Dwalin remarked.

"I'm fine," Amarth said. "What route are we traveling today?"

Balin pointed.

"At Atiana's insistence, we're heading that way."

"That way?" Amarth repeated, her eyebrow lifting. "No South or North? No gander?"

Balin's face gave nothing away but he radiated with displeasure. Luckily he knew enough to keep his mouth shut and Amarth had no time to pressure him further. Thorin emerged from the inn, Atiana slung over his shoulder. She didn't seem at all bothered by it, sleeping still.

"Here."

Thorin tossed the quiver and bow he carried to Amarth who sidestepped them easily. Kili, behind Amarth, caught them, almost dropping them as he fumbled to secure them. Thorin eyed her but the elf just grinned. With a blank expression, Thorin noticed the bags beneath her eyes. They'd been growing since she'd joined the party. Without visibly acknowledging them, Thorin turned away and led his company.

* * *

"Don't start," Amarth ordered.

She felt Gandalf fall into step with her, a silent but commanding presence at her side.

"I have spoken to Thranduil few times," Gandalf led with, despite Amarth's order.

"Would you like a reward?" Amarth snapped.

Gandalf stopped her with his staff, letting the others pass them. Amarth glared at him, ignoring the curious back glances the dwarves through them.

"You have been free for many years," Gandalf went on. "Yet are you really free?"

Amarth was silent for a moment, staring at nothing for that time.

"I can't remember any longer what freedom is," she admitted.

She grinned.

"But this quest is quickly allowing me to regain that knowledge."

Before Gandalf could respond, she bolted after the dwarves, leaving the old wizard behind her.

* * *

Noon decorated the sky, bright rays of light shining down. Atiana moaned briefly, her eyes fluttering open. She heard the murmur and low laughter of dwarves around her and looked around. She was looking up at Thorin. He didn't notice, speaking directly to someone, and Atiana stared at his strong jaw shamelessly. After a moment, the dwarf king sensed her stare, looking down at her and meeting her stare. Atiana smiled warmly.

"Awake at last?" Thorin asked.

Atiana didn't respond, sitting up. She glanced around, her eyes settling on Amarth. The elf was settled against Durin, a few feet away, dozing peacefully.

"Why have we stopped?" Atiana asked, still watching Amarth.

"Your queen was lagging behind," Dwalin replied.

Which wasn't a surprise. She was always tired and slipped away to her rooms to nap midday.

"We're losing time," Thorin complained.

Atiana chuckled as she rose.

"We'll make good time," she insisted.

She stretched, her senses picking up on the sound of rushing water nearby.

"Let us take advantage of our current break," she suggested.

"To do what?" Kili asked.

"Whatever you wished," Atiana called over her shoulder as she headed for Amarth.

Durin watched her and Atiana nudged Amarth with her foot, waking her from her light sleep.

"There's water nearby," Atiana informed her. "Bath?"

"Oh yes," Amarth declared, reaching for Atiana who helped her up.

The two left the dwarves behind and headed towards the water, Durin following quietly.

* * *

The water bothered her wounds or whatever was left of them after Atiana's aggressive healing session. Scars remained though but she would just add them to the ones that decorated her stomach courtesy of Azog. Atiana had her eyes closed, shivering as the cold water met her hot skin. It didn't stop her from sliding into the water. Meanwhile, their clothes swung gently in the breeze, scrubbed clean.

"Atiana," Amarth began.

Atiana glanced over, her eyes a happy golden.

"Hm?"

Amarth hesitated a moment before she went on.

"Do you love my son?"

She watched blankly as the those golden eyes darkened to blue, the only tell that she was upset.

"How could you ask me that?" Atiana demanded.

Amarth said nothing, sinking into the water. She was in a mood. Even she would admit that. But it was a legit question. She sank to the bottom, her mind on both her son and her king. As well as the dwarf king. He was a handsome dwarf, she'd admit that too. No. No. She shook her head, looking towards the surface above her head, sun shining down on her. Eventually, she would have to resurface. But now was not that time.

* * *

Meanwhile, hidden by bushes, keeping quiet, Fili and Kili watched the two elves bathe.

"If they catch us, they'll kill us," Fili whispered.

"But it will be worth it," Kili declared. "Besides, its probably the only way you'll ever see Atiana like this."

He laughed, glancing at his brother and discovering the blush that decorated Fili's face. His gaze returned to the elves as Amarth reemerged, smoothing her wet hair over her shoulders.

* * *

"I'm sorry," she said.

Atiana let out a sigh.

"I know you are," she finally admitted. "And yes I do love Legolas. I have loved him and I would not marry him if I did not."

Amarth grinned.

"Would you have married Thranduil, even if you did not love him?" she asked.

"Ugh, no," Atiana declared. "He's much better than he was before he married you though."

"I have that effect on people."

* * *

Darkness fell on the trudging company as they searched for camp, barely able to see. Amarth felt Bilbo kick up little pebbles, the small projectiles hitting her heels.

"Thorin!" she called up the line.

A grunt was all she got in response.

"Given that sight is an impossibility right now, shouldn't we stop? Or do you intend for us to waste all of tomorrow retracing our steps until we find our path?"

Given that the sound of shuffling feet stopped, she guessed that the dwarf king had as well.

"We make camp here," he announced gruffly.

The dwarves broke off into small groups, setting up camp.

"Must you be so difficult?" Atiana inquired.

"Yes," Amarth replied.

She turned away from Atiana, striding through the tall grass. As she did, Kili joined her.

"Ah, one of the dwarves I was looking for," she remarked as she went.

She paused, her eyes checking to ensure that no one was around. Then she gave Kili her full attention.

"I want to tell you a little tale," she informed him. "One you may find very… beneficial to your health."

Her tone suggested her words were chosen carefully and Kili nodded, obviously curious as to what this was about.

"When I was new in my role as queen, my dear king happened upon a guard peeping while I bathed. He exiled the fool who later fell to orcs. Now then, if such a fate befell a fellow elf, I do wonder, what would he do to a young dwarven prince?"

Kili went red, unable to speak as he realized he'd been caught. Amarth offered him a sweet smile.

"Oh and do stop corrupting your brother," she advised. "He's already a noble soul. Let that remain true when he is your king."

"How'd you know he was going to be king?" Kili asked as Amarth turned to go.

Amarth did not turn back.

"Because the way your uncle treats Fili is very much the equivalent of how my own son is treated by his father."

* * *

"Atiana," Thorin greeted, even before the elven maid made her presence known.

Thorin had allowed himself to learn her footsteps. Friend or foe, she approached the same. A light step, her shoes never making a sound or an indent. He had to wonder if she took such measures instinctively or if she was aware she even did it.

"Yes?"

Thorin turned at her voice. Begrudgingly, he had to admit that Amarth had been right. It was far too dark. Had Atiana's eyes not glown golden in the black curtain of night, he would have been unable to see her.

"You're eyes," he began.

For when they had met, they'd been brown. He could feel Atiana's smile, even if he was unable to see it.

"Ah, so you have noticed," she guessed.

Thorin nodded, scolding himself a moment later. If he could not see her, what made him think the reverse was possible?

"Since I was born, my eyes have…changed color so as to fit my mood," Atiana explained.

She was moving again, coming to sit beside him in that darkness.

"They darken when I become angry and lighten when I am… not angry," she went on.

Thorin let out a soft chuckle of sarcasm.

"That certainly explains why they are always dark around Amarth," he remarked.

Atiana laughed.

"She frustrates me, that is certain. But she also frustrates you."

Glowing gold eyes focused on him.

"There is no need to tell me why. She's childish and sarcastic and stubborn. But-"

"I do not wish to speak of Amarth," Thorin said.

"Then what do you want to speak of?" Atiana inquired, willing to change the subject.

Good question. Thorin had merely wanted her company, putting all effort into making sure she had seen him break away from the group. Past that, well, he was actually just relieved to be here.

"Tell me about you," Thorin requested. "Of your life before Amarth."

Atiana's eyes were locked on him, contemplative and thoughtful. But only for a moment. She looked away, as if looking at some long buried memories.

"I was born in Mirkwood…"

* * *

As always, Amarth awoke before the sun, rising and stumbling away from Atiana's sleeping form. She could smell dawn's approach as she walked off sleep, careful not to step on any dwarves. Pulling her long hair into some semblance of neat, she stretched. Her sense once again growing alert, she heard the clash of steal and followed it without hesitation. She came upon Thorin and Fili, the two sparring, with Thorin barking at Fili, clearly displeased at his nephew's sloppy movements. Fili was undeterred by his uncle's criticism, adjusting his stance or hold when told. Neither dwarf acknowledged Amarth's presence though both had seen her at one time or another.

"He will learn nothing if you merely yell at him," Amarth remarked offhandedly.

Thorin ignored the comment as Fili found his feet again, readjusting his hold on the sword. Amarth sighed deeply, watching the scene before her but thinking of another time.

_"Arise, Legolas."_

Thranduil's voice dug its way from her memories, making her tense as she recalled the harsh expression on his face, the one he used when he was displeased and ready to wash his hands of the source of that displeasure. His sword was balanced in his hands, the way he gripped it, tight, the only tell of his anger.

_"Enough Thranduil!" _Amarth heard herself order.

_"I said arise Legolas!"_

_"Thranduil!"_

_"I will not have a weak son, Amarth! He will rise!"_

_"Enough!"_

Amarth fought her way out of her memories, stepping between Thorin and Fili, her sword blocking Thorin's with ease. He seemed surprised by her actions, taking a step back briefly and lowering his sword.

"If you intend to teach him, then teach him," she instructed. "However, if you wish to spar, I can provide a much better opponent."

Thorin studied her for a moment before lifting his sword again. Amarth glanced over her shoulder.

"Go," she told Fili.

He obeyed, backing away as he went. Amarth turned her attention to her sword, staring at the blade. She was aware of Thorin, moving in an almost careless circle.

"I hit a nerve," he observed.

Amarth said nothing, eyes drifting to him. That's when he struck and her sword was there to meet his, an almost effortless block. Amarth didn't bother trying to shove him back, taking a few steps back herself before she ducked low, aiming for his side. He dodged, body moving in a perfect circle, bringing his blade around. Amarth rolled out of its path, bringing her sword up over her head to stop Thorin's next attack.

"I should inform you that I have many issues," Amarth said. "None of which are really resolved."

Before he could retort, she threw her body back, kicking out with her free leg knocking him down as well. Meanwhile, she back flipped her way to her feet, hurrying to Thorin's side, her sword pointed at his neck, a small smile in place as her entire body radiated triumph.

"Those issues are what make me an excellent warrior."

She sheathed her blade, offering her hand. Much to her surprise, Thorin accepted and she helped him up.

"You will be a good king," she remarked. "But first you must shed your hatred of elves."

"Have you any idea why I hate your kind?" Thorin asked, a slight edge to his voice.

"I have an idea," Amarth replied, sheathing her blade.

She met his eyes.

"You would not lead your men to what was undeniably their death," she said. "How can you expect it of anyone else?"

Before he could answer, she turned to go.

"Why did you intercede?" he asked, his words coming out quickly.

Amarth paused, back still to him as she pondered her answer.

"I suppose there is no use in trying to avoid influencing your opinion of my husband," she mused aloud.

She turned to face him once more.

"When my son was born and for a few years afterwards, my husband feared that he would be weak because he stuck so close to my side. And my son has sword skills that are... lacking compared to his father and I," she replied. "Thranduil feared that his successor would not be fit to sit on his throne. And so, when our son was old enough, Thranduil began to train him. Over and over, Legolas would fall, each time ordered to rise again until his failure to do so angered Thranduil enough to storm away."

Thorin's face was impassive.

"Yet you defend him when he is a monster," he sneered.

Amarth smiled slowly.

"I have seen beneath the exterior he wears," she responded. "I have been able to since the very first time I lay eyes on him. I know who he truly is, fears and weaknesses included. He is harsh, yes, but he loves his son and his people. No monster could ever do that."


End file.
